


Triumph

by DobeTero



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, MCiT, Modern Character in Thedas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobeTero/pseuds/DobeTero
Summary: An MCIT is a spirit that possesses King Cailan following his near death at Ostagar.This is their journey through the Blight.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Triumph

King Cailan Theirin, son of King Maric Theirin was no stranger to a proper hangover. 

The ones where the sky was trying to knock on your eyelids and your brain was knocking back. And the two really, really wanted to meet each other and give you the worst headache. But the smells of this one were not familiar nor the pain, the smoke- wait. 

_ Up _ .

_ Up, now _ .

A knock to his head jolted Cailan awake. 

Cailan shot up and immediately regretted it as his body lit up with pain. Breath heavy as he clenched his eyes closed. Slowly pushing off his back, Cailan opened his eyes to the remains of Ostagar. Or what he thought was the battle's remains, as he sat in a crater. Nobody around to take a boot to his head.

Pulling himself out, Cailan could only stare in horror. Warriors and darkspawn alike layed dead, mangled or burned. Not a soul or terror stirring. 

Giant craters checkered the field, flames still flickering on the rings. Bigger than any rubble held in the army’s catapults. 

What had happened?

The battle’s reality flooded Cailan’s head as a headache crashed in. There was no victory, no hero song. Countless faces that Cailan met and talked with only a day before, lay empty and frozen in pained cries and pleads that would never be answered. 

Ostagar’s army was decimated.

Cailan caught a glint of a bloodied griffon symbol in a puddle of gore. And Duncan. 

Duncan and the Grey Wardens were gone, the people’s only true chance at stopping the darkspawn was up in flames and ash. 

And the Blight was upon Fereldan.

Cailan couldn’t help the angered cry that left him as he limped forward, over and past still bodies. The man at fault was his father’s and his own friend. Loghain had left them for the darkspawn to rip into. He’d betrayed Cailan. He’d betrayed the people of Fereldan, for what?! Power for the throne? How could the man possibly kid himself that the Blight would not destroy Fereldan! What of Anora and Denerim? 

_ Breath in _ , a voice told him.  _ Breath out, calm yourself being angry won’t get you answers _ . 

Despite himself, Cailan pushed the bile of anger back down his throat. Taking in a shuddering breath in then out, once then twice. Until the fuzz in his brain slipped away. 

_ Up. Go. _

Anger would get him out of the ruins of Ostagar. Or at least give him the energy. 

So Cailan did the only thing he knew to do in the worst of situations and hangovers. Get up and go home. 

And Cailan walked from Ostagar. Unaware of the fact that the speck haunting his peripherals, was no trick of the light.


End file.
